TRP: Mishka and Goro (Innocence)
COYOTE: Alabaster. When Mishka was small, he used to play with the kids from a neighboring merchant family. Then one day, one of them hit him with a ball, and Mishka sort of— melted the ball by accident. And-- Naturally that spooked him. Right? He melted the kid’s face next. He was so shocked he sat in the middle of the courtyard where everyone could see and cried. Asenka understood. She knelt in front of him, wiping his crusted tears away and cooling his overheated face. Her hands were so soft and so cool. “Shh,” she said. “It’s okay, little Mousie.” She kissed his forehead. Mishka hiccuped. “Am I-- am I a m-monster?” “No, sweetheart,” Asenka said. She smoothed the hair out of his face with her soft, smooth hands. “You have a lot of magic, Mishka. And sometimes-- when you get very upset-- it might be hard for you to control. You need to work very hard on controlling it. Okay? Otherwise, if you let go of it, it might hurt people.” Mishka scrubbed his face. “Okay.” “So I want you to do something for me,” Asenka said softly. She cupped his face so he was looking at her. “Whenever you get very scared, Mishka, or you get very angry or upset… Run away, okay? Go find somewhere nice, and quiet, and peaceful, away from other people, and calm down.” “Okay, Asenka.” -- Mishka kept walking. There was too much noise, and he was fucking tired, and he could feel people looking at him. He only had another year and a half before the dragon called him back, and it was still fucking going to make him kill Hansel. He knew that. Hansel could punch him in the face and tell him to get out and call him a liar and a bastard and Mishka would still fucking love him— and how fucking pathetic was that? He’d felt safe with Hansel for a while, and apparently that was all it took. Hansel listened when he was upset, hugged him when he was crying, and didn’t touch him unless he wanted to be touched, and he smelled like sharpened steel and blood, and, god, fuck, fuck-- And if he were here right now, he’d wrap Mishka in his oversized cloak like a spiked clam around a pearl and carry him home. He pet Mishka’s hair and tell him he wasn’t a monster, and he wasn’t overreacting, and this was a normal thing to be upset about. Okay. Breathe. Didn’t have time to fucking cry. He’d hide somewhere until morning, when he regained his spells. Then he’d turn invisible and get his stuff. Mishka drew his knife and started walking into the woods. He marked trees as he passed so he could find his way back again. He wasn’t sure how long he walked; maybe it was five minutes, maybe it was five hours, who fucking knew. He didn’t know what direction he was going. Eventually, he collapsed on the ground. He toyed with the ring on his finger, watching it glint in the light. He should get rid of it. Goro sometimes did that thing where he found people by casting a spell to locate an object they had. He ought to pitch it. Get rid of his dancing rapier, too, and his focus, because Goro might try all those things. But… he couldn’t stand the thought of losing it. If this was all he had left of Hansel, he wanted it. He climbed up into a tree and nestled into a nook high in the branches. He looped his belt through a branch in case he fell off, then tried to sleep. LINA: Some time later, he heard Goro's voice in his head. Where are you? What happened? COYOTE: Mishka jerked a little. He took a minute to puzzle awake. Yeah, where the fuck was he, and what had happened? Then he woke up a little more and remembered. What the fuck was he supposed to say? The words jumbled in his throat. Tell the truth: In the forest. Need in talk. Something's wrong with Hansel. Lie? I went back home. He'd seen how Goro got when loved ones were threatened. By the time he figured out what to say, the spell timed out. LINA: Goro could tell the spell had gone through; Mishka just didn't reply. There were too many possible reasons and not enough information to puzzle out why. Out of curiosity, he cast a spell to locate one of the things Mishka hadn't left behind, far as he could tell, and probably wouldn't ditch: his obsidian pendant. Son of a bitch. It was just... right out there in the woods. Really close by. Goro gave Hansel a kiss and a really good squeeze and told him he'd be right back. Made it sound like he was heading off to the bathroom, or something. He slipped downstairs and outside. Marched through the woods, slowing only as he got within fifty feet or so of where he sensed Mishka's pendant. It was kinda fucking creepy out here, all by himself, and Mishka hadn't built a fire or anything like that. Goro couldn't see or hear a thing. Finally, the spell led him to the base of a tree. The pendant was above him. He knocked on the trunk and called up toward the branches. "Wakey wakey." He started to wonder if this might've been a bad idea, coming out here without telling anyone where he was going. COYOTE: Mishka heard... footsteps, and crunching leaves, and snapping twigs. Didn't sound like somebody trying to be stealthy. He unhooked the belt loop so he could move and swung his legs over the edge to sit upright on the branch. "If you've come to kill me, just fucking do it," Mishka said. "Outta magic. Easy shot." His voice sounded raspy from weeping. He probably could've been more diplomatic than that. But whatever. He'd had a long day. LINA: "Um." Goro rubbed the back of his head, looking up at him. "Nah." COYOTE: Normally he had escape routes. Made him itch, not having anywhere to go. Could bolt deeper into this woods, but his feet had no calluses and were already bloody from stumbling through the underbrush. "Is Hansel okay?" Mishka said, and his voice broke a bit. LINA: Goro didn't say anything. Mishka sounded fucking anguished, but that could be an act, or it could be his own weird twisted grief that still didn't deserve the time of day if he'd really been fucking with their heads. Still, it was really fucking hard not to answer. "What happened?" he asked. COYOTE: "What did Hansel say happened?" LINA: "Does it matter?" COYOTE: "Yes," Mishka said, fingers digging into the bark, "because he wouldn't fucking tell me what happened, or-- why the fuck-- he didn't tell me what I even--" He kept trying to get it out, and it kept getting jumbled. None of it made sense. They had been happy. Things had been good. "I don't know what I did," Mishka said. "If he would-- fucking talk to me I'd-- apologize, and-- explain, or--" But Hansel didn't want to talk to him. Hansel didn't want to hear it. Apparently he'd fucked up too bad. That was the worst part, not knowing what it was, pouring over all their past conversations, all their recent history, trying to figure out if it was something he'd done recently or something old. Said the wrong thing. Stabbed Hansel in the back, somehow, unintentionally. Hurt somebody Hansel cared about. Had to be something. Mishka wanted to say, Please, god, tell me what it is. But he choked it back. Too proud. LINA: Goro swallowed. He dug his fingernails into his palm, hard enough to hurt. "He didn't... tell you?" COYOTE: Mishka didn't answer. Swung his legs back around, instead. Shifted back inside the nook of the tree, leaving one foot dangling out where it wouldn't fit, and curled his arms around his legs, pressing his face against his knees. LINA: "Mishka?" Goro called. Wanting to make sure Mishka would still talk to him. He swallowed. COYOTE: Mishka thought about asking for a minute, or telling Goro it was fine and to fuck off, but that was too many words. He made a noise of acknowledgment instead. LINA: "So you have... no idea... why Hansel kicked you out," Goro tried. And he closed his eyes and listened closely. COYOTE: "I know I fucked up. I know we were--" Mishka gestured. "We were... in his room, and he left, and-- he came back, and he was angry, and he told me I knew what I fucking did and to get out, and I asked him to talk, and then he-- hit me, and shoved me, and threw me out, and I don't--" Useless complaining. Mishka gritted his teeth. He probably deserved it. Just didn't know why, yet. LINA: For a minute, Goro forgot he was supposed to be listening for a lie. He got too caught up picturing it. Thinking what if it happened to him. Hansel suddenly doing all that to him. Mishka was living a fucking nightmare. Goro stuck the knuckle of his index finger in his mouth and chewed on it. Fuck, fuck, he didn't know if he'd... know, for sure, if his head was being fucked with. Could be happening right now. Might have a different feel depending on the spell, or who was casting it. He wished like anything he'd had Zone of Truth prepared, but he almost never did nowadays--was useless, most of the time, since people could just not talk. But this--someone claiming they were innocent. This was exactly what it was good for. He got too tired to keep biting and was just sort of sucking. Like a little kid sucking his thumb for comfort. God, if Mishka was telling the truth--hiding up there in that tree, all alone-- But if he were lying, and Goro told him everything that was going on, gave him more ammunition to keep screwing them over-- He made himself take his finger out of his mouth and wipe it on his shirt. "A cleric," he said. "Hansel says he ran into a cleric. The guy cleared his memories. Erased a block you'd put there." He left off all the bits about how fucking shady he found that whole thing to begin with. Waited to see if Mishka would pick up on it on his own. COYOTE: A block? "I can't even-- that doesn't--" And then he fell dead silent. Fingers digging into his skin again. Somebody talked to Hansel. A cleric. And cast a spell on him. And now Hansel believed Mishka was lying to him and had covered something up. Someone cast a spell on his husband and upset him. Somebody dug into his mind and fucked with it, and now Hansel was crying and upset somewhere, thinking Mishka screwed with his head. Or-- or-- Goro was lying. Did Goro have a reason to lie? Goro didn't usually lie, not like this, not to family members, but today had gotten so fucked up Mishka wasn't sure what to believe. Or, potentially, this was not Goro. Or this was a memory someone was implanting in his head right now. Mishka shifted back, suddenly paranoid. Fucking Alabaster. LINA: Goro crossed his arms and scuffed his boot against the ground. "None of us knew you could do that. Modify memories." COYOTE: "I can't," Mishka said. "I tried to learn. For ages. Fucking years. Can't do it. I can't do that Sending magic, either, and I've tried to learn that one a bunch too. Goro. Listen. What if-- how do I know you're you? God, what's something you would know." LINA: Goro snorted, then decided it wasn't really funny. Nothing about this was anything approaching funny. He fucking hated it. He crossed his arms tighter and dropped his head forward. COYOTE: "What's Hansel's birthday?" LINA: Goro pondered briefly whether this could be some kinda trick, but he couldn't think how. "May sixth." COYOTE: Mishka suddenly had an even more paranoid thought. “What’s my birthday?” he said. Goro didn’t know his birthday. Mishka thought his birthday as loudly as possible, just in case this was a doppelganger with mind-reading powers. LINA: "How'm I supposed to know? You fuckin' change it every time someone asks." COYOTE: “Oh thank god.” LINA: Goro screwed up his face, hopelessly confused. "The fuck's this gotta do with anything? Oh. Right. You're making sure I'm me, or whatever. Yeah. Satisfied?" COYOTE: Mishka gave a thumb’s up. LINA: Goro sure wasn't. Maybe if he played dumb. "If you can't cast Modify Memory, the hell do you think that cleric did, huh?" COYOTE: Mishka ticked off fingers. “One, you’re lying to me. Doesn’t seem likely, but it’s on the table. Two, you think you’re telling the truth but you have misinformation somehow... like maybe that wasn’t Hansel and Hansel’s in trouble. Three, that cleric fucked with his head somehow and I’m going to find them and kill them. Four, none of this is actually happening and I’m having a nightmare, or else someone is implanting these memories in my head in order to drive me away from my family and isolate me before they kill me.” All of those sounded like insane conspiracy theories. All of them. “I know I sound crazy,” Mishka croaked. He huddled up inside the tree again. LINA: "Five," Goro said, "you got a wand or something that let you cast Modify Memory. Or a spell scroll. I know you like collecting 'em." COYOTE: That hit harder than it should’ve. It was completely fucking fair; it made the most sense. It was the simplest. “Roddy has that flute,” Mishka said faintly. “Or... had. There was an item.” Did he fucking disassociate? Did he change his own memories? Maybe he did do it. Crazy people didn’t know they were crazy. LINA: "And lookit you." Goro peered up into the tree. "Such a fuckin' master of acting innocent, you're pulling the whole act-a-little-guilty-'cause-everyone-knows-a-guilty-person-wouldn't-really-do-that schtick." He was kind of trying to be an asshole, but he couldn't put any bite into his voice. COYOTE: “No. I mean, I’m not— I get why you think that, I just— god. I wouldn’t trust me, either, and... it makes perfect sense I could use an item or a scroll, just in case... keep it hidden, because of course I would... and I’m such a fucking liar, everyone knows that.” It came out more jumbled as Mishka got more upset. Normally he’d keep his guard up, but he couldn’t. Too broken down. “And... what if... fuck, what if I did do it? And I— erased my own memory, or... fucking forgot, somehow. Wished it out of my own head. What if I’m crazy? What if it is me? And you— there’s no fucking point in saying all of this, because you’re not going to believe me. It could be all— nonsense, me lying more or— trying to deflect and minimize, pretend I did it but forgot. God.” He was going to burst into tears again. He shifted backwards. Too confusing. Too much going on. LINA: Goro leaned forward and rested his forehead on the tree trunk. He was gonna lose his goddamn mind. He didn't think Mishka was lying. But he didn't trust himself to know, either. Wishful thinking. His memories of what Mishka was like, tampered with. And if Mishka was telling the truth, then... what the fuck? What the fuck had that so-called cleric done to Hansel? And why, and how? How could he have implanted such an excruciatingly specific false memory without knowing intimate details of Hansel's life? 'Course, there was... one cleric, who knew how to modify memories, and who knew all those intimate details, and who knew magic to disguise himself, too. Goro crossed his arms tighter, feeling sick, suddenly in half a panic that this was all going to turn around and land on him somehow. Fuck. No. An easy fix. Remove Curse. That'd set everyone straight. Just had to get through the night. "I believe you," he said, even though it was only half true. Half lie. Perfectly balanced. COYOTE: Mishka made a miserable noise. He wanted to ask, I need a favor, and ask Goro to grab his mask for him, or his gold, or his fucking clothes, at least. What happened in the morning if he couldn’t rest well enough? If he had his emerald chalk, he could draw a circle and teleport home, to Joan, but he didn’t. Stuck here in Alabaster til morning. He just wanted to go back home and curl up under Hansel’s arm and promise to do better. It was his fault, even if he didn’t technically do anything wrong this time, because he was such a fucking liar and such a fucking backstabber Hansel didn’t trust him. “I don’t believe me,” Mishka said thickly. “I must be crazy. That’s the simplest explanation. I’m crazy or this is a nightmare. Everything else is too convoluted.” LINA: Yeah, well. Their lives were pretty fucking convoluted. Goro had never been one of those simplest explanation kind of people. "Hey," he said. "You really out of magic?" COYOTE: “I can still stab things. And I can still do cantrips. I was out doing shit all day. And then when I got home, y’know, there were these... kids. Really interested in Hansel and I. Kept asking us to do magic.” LINA: Eh. Yeah. There was always cantrips. Even so. Goro reached into the pocket where he'd been keeping the Hand of Glory he bought from Lyra. He liked putting it in the one that pickpockets in Skyport always tended to go for. There were few things more delightful than a dumbass thief going in for some coin and feeling a fucking hand. "Catch," Goro called, and made ready to toss it up to him. COYOTE: Mishka frowned and caught it. What the hell was— Holy shit that was a fucking hand. A leathery human hand, like somebody cut it off and then pickled it. “Oh my god,” Mishka said, and almost dropped it. “Goro. Whose hand is this?” LINA: "Some dead warlock," Goro said carelessly. "Hey, listen, relax. I bought it from Lyra. It's magic. Casts a spell that makes a big sphere of light, and whoever's in the light, it makes them sick. Tires 'em out and burns 'em. Like one of your fireballs." COYOTE: Mishka eyed the hand. That certainly seemed like something Goro would buy from Lyra. But— It occurred to Mishka, right then, that Goro had been bragging about being able to change people’s memories, and Goro was good at lying to people. Wouldn’t be that hard to disguise himself, either, and he’d been in town. Maybe he did it. Maybe he changed Hansel’s memories. Was Mishka the chump right now? “Thanks,” Mishka said, wiping his eyes. “I have never been more touched by a receiving a dead hand.” He sniffled. His instinct was to ask more questions. Figure more shit out. Then he’d come up with a plan to figure out what the hell was going on. Couldn’t trust anyone right now. LINA: Goro scowled. "If you don't want it, give it back. That thing cost me a lot of money." That, and there was the whole arming the enemy thing to consider. COYOTE: Mishka snorted, then started to laugh. “Goro. I wasn’t being facetious. Thank you.” Normally Goro would just stab people who threatened Hansel. Mishka, untrustworthy bastard of the year, got the benefit of the doubt. It was fucking touching. LINA: Goro leaned his forehead against the trunk again, letting the bark dig into his skin. "Never can tell with you," he muttered. He should be able to, by now. He'd known Mishka long enough. Spent enough time with him. Seen him relaxed, unguarded. Seen the stupid-happy look he got on his face when he woke up in Hansel's arms. At least, he thought he had. It'd almost be easier if it turned out to all be true--if Mishka had fucked with Hansel's head. Then Goro would have an excuse for his persistent inability to trust Mishka completely, all the way, deep down. As it was, he'd just felt like a failure, someone who couldn't ever fully feel safe with a person who wasn't gonna hurt him anyway. He didn't want to be right, though. He didn't want more evidence that sometimes his stupid, awful, miserable doubts were real. He didn't want any of this--didn't want to lose Mishka, didn't want the gaping hole it would leave behind; didn't want the way it would break Hansel, possibly beyond repair. Goro kept almost feeling angry, and then the sadness would come snuff it out again. He smacked his fist into the tree and ground it back and forth, scraping his knuckles up on the bark. His eyes watered. He was glad Mishka kept the hand, anyway. Goro wouldn't be able to walk away leaving Mishka undefended. They'd just wind up bickering over it if Mishka tossed it back. "It's only got one charge a day, so save it until you really need it," Goro said. "Stay up there. Stay where I can find you." COYOTE: Mishka was quiet for a while. He wasn’t sure he felt more safe or less safe, knowing people might be able to find him here. Still itched. Suppose Larkin wanted to kill him, or Raef. Suppose Goro became convinced Mishka was guilty and came back to kill him. Suppose Mishka was guilty. “Okay,” Mishka said quietly. “I’ll stay here.” He rubbed his face. “You’ve got that staff,” Mishka said. “That lets you see through shape-shifters and illusions. And you’ve got that ring that stops people from reading your mind. And you’ve got that spell that forces people to tell the truth, and spells that take magic off of people.” LINA: "Yup," Goro said. COYOTE: “You are uniquely positioned to solve this little mystery almost immediately. If an outsider happens to be fucking with us— and they know enough about us— you are, very likely, the next target— either someone who might be framed or someone who might be killed.” Under normal circumstances, Mishka would go back home, and he’d insist they all sleep in the same room— or at least divide into two rooms— and lock the doors, and set a lookout while they slept. He’d lock the doors and windows and triple-check to make sure he knew all the entrances and exits in the inn, and then he’d list them off to Hansel so Hansel knew them too. Then they’d curl up in bed in a small pile, and Mishka would keep one hand on Goro and one hand on Hansel so he’d wake up the instant they moved. Mishka was dying to hold Hansel and gently talk him down, and he was dying to go back and help protect the group— he needed to protect Goro, and Roddy, and Luci— but he wasn’t fucking allowed. He was losing his goddamn mind. He couldn’t fix his husband. Wasn’t allowed to even talk to him. Wasn’t allowed to protect Goro, either. LINA: "No one's gonna fuck with me," Goro said fiercely. A little dampened by the near-tears in his voice, but still. COYOTE: God. If someone else really did do this, Mishka was gonna strangle them with his bare hands. Normally this was where Mishka would say, Nah, of course not, because Mishka would have his back. Right now, of course, there were some snags. Mishka hunched over, biting the inside of his cheek til it bled. He really wanted to hop down from the crook of the tree and tuck Goro under his arm, tangle his finger’s in Goro’s wiry hair and tell him how good and vicious he was, how nobody was gonna fuck with him, but today, that wasn’t a good idea. Probably get hit or stabbed or told to fuck off— which was fair. He wanted to say, I love you, or, I miss you, but those might be a bad idea too. Goro was already suspicious of affection. Didn’t need it coming from the enemy, right now. “I’m sorry,” Mishka called quietly. “I wish we could go home and go to bed. I wish I could come down there.” LINA: Goro ground his teeth and ground his fist into the tree some more. "Well," he called back, "just do it. Come down here." COYOTE: Mishka thought about it for a while. The most likely possibilities were that Goro was the traitor; Mishka was the traitor; or Hansel had been replaced or mind-controlled somehow. Or this mysterious cleric had done something to Hansel’s head, which— seemed so improbable. How could they have known what to change? It was him or Goro. Probably. And even if it wasn’t either of them, Goro had no fucking reason to trust him. But... Eh. If he had to die, there were worse ways to go. He’d half been considering turning himself in and getting arrested. Mishka tucked the dead hand into his belt. He swung his legs over again and skittered down the trunk, his bruised feet scraping on the bark. LINA: Goro backed away from the tree a few feet when Mishka came down. He crossed his arms, watching him warily. His hand stung, and it took him a second to remember he'd just been grinding it against the tree bark. It was bleeding. Well, fuckin' yeah. COYOTE: Mishka glanced left and right. Nobody else had come with, so he supposed this was not an elaborate plan to kill him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed Goro into a fast, one-armed hug. Goro smelled faintly like alcohol, which meant he and Hansel had been drinking. His knuckles were pink and bloody with bits of splinter stuck in them. Easy to heal, even though he fucking wouldn't; he'd wave his hand and make some comment about how it wasn't worth the magic. Mishka slid his arm down, tighter, and pressed his face down against Goro's shoulder. LINA: Goro tensed. Didn't seem possible to do anything else. He hugged Mishka back, though. Probably too hard. Never could fully shake that feeling that he was cutting Mishka up accidentally every time they touched. Just a thorn bush wrapping around him. He pressed his face against the side of Mishka's head. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "If you're telling the truth, I'm sorry this is happening. So fucking sorry. I'll try to make it right. And if you're not telling the truth, fuck you." COYOTE: Mishka choked out a laugh. Still felt hysterical. LINA: Goro had been out here for longer than he'd intended. If Hansel wasn't still thoroughly distracted by whiskey, he might be assuming the worst. Goro's gut lurched. "I..." he started. Going back to Hansel meant leaving Mishka alone. Scared and heartbroken and confused. Or not. Goro squeezed him a little tighter, jaw clenching. "I have to sleep," he said. That was what it fucking came down to. "I can't fix Hansel's head until I sleep." COYOTE: Mishka let go, hand trailing after him. He disappeared around the trunk, to where there were broken branches and hand-holds, then scampered back up it and vanished back into the boughs, out of sight. LINA: Ah. Goro hadn't been... trying to drive him off, or anything. But if he imagined himself in Mishka's position, he'd sure as fuck do the same thing. Whether he was innocent or guilty. "Don't forget the hand," he called. "I, uh. I could bring you a healing potion?" Didn't have any in his pockets, damn it all. COYOTE: Mishka examined his hands and feet. “They’re just scrapes. They’ll turn into calluses and look nice, yes? All dashing and manly.” But that felt fucking fake, so Mishka said what he was really thinking, which was: “Please go stay with Hansel.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted Hansel to protect Goro or Goro to protect Hansel. LINA: "I meant for if you get hurt," Goro said, ignoring the last part. COYOTE: “Can I have my mask?” That was probably pushing it. Mishka just want to stick it on and pretend to be a homeless man for a night, but he could, hypothetically, get up to a lot of shit with that mask. LINA: "No," Goro snapped, probably too readily. "I mean... fuckin'... look. Look at it from my perspective. I know I said I believe you, but." COYOTE: "Yeah, no, you don't need to fucking explain," Mishka said. He slunk down further in the boughs. "You'll do what you gotta do, and I'll do what I gotta do. And tomorrow, hopefully, we'll end up on the same side again." He said, "I love you. Be safe, clever little koshka." LINA: Goro was frozen for a moment, unable to reply. His mind kept drifting through the possibilities, making him indignant. How fucking dare you. How fucking dare you say you love me. I'm not your fucking kitten. How dare you tell me to go stay with Hansel like you have any fucking say in the matter. Maybe it was easier for him to leave, that way. Easier than walking away and turning his back on someone who'd done nothing wrong. It really wasn't that long ago that telling someone he loved them had felt insurmountably frightening. The utter vulnerability of it. It'd made him shake and cringe. Now he said it to Theo every night now when he tucked her into bed. He mumbled it against Hansel's shoulder so much he wasn't sure if the meaning was wearing off. He'd said it to Mishka. This, though? Goro peered up into the tree sullenly. He crossed his arms tight, shaking his head over and over, and turned to head back to the inn. "Little," he muttered, kicking a piece of rotted wood as he walked. "'M bigger than you." end Title: Innocence. Summary: Goro goes to find Mishka in the woods and hear his side of the story. '' Category:Text Roleplay